


The Transmogrification

by iHypothesize



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 05:14:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19882219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iHypothesize/pseuds/iHypothesize
Summary: Canon Divergence. What if David Rose ended up in Schitt's Creek but not bankrupt in the process? This is the preface to that story.





	The Transmogrification

**Author's Note:**

> A nugget that helped me fill up my time, and now hopefully, yours. Unbeta'd. 
> 
> Enjoy, have fun, and let's respect everyone.

David Rose was at the tail end of what he termed, for the lack of a better expression,a horrible, terrible, no good week (or whatever that pop culture reference was). It had all started at a party one Saturday night.

_David was at another white party at a penthouse in downtown Manhattan, seeking out a quiet spot or the restroom, in no particular order. As he entered the shadows of a long hallway, he overheard a group of people conversing, and paused when his name came up._

_“David Rose? Oh yeah, I was at that exhibit last of his week. Easiest money I’ve made all year.”_

_Another person snorted. “Tell me about it. I was paid double to pick up a piece from there last summer. Bought me a week in Cabo.”_

_“I heard from my uncle at the Times that they’re paid annually to guarantee good word of mouth. Hush-hush of course.”_

_“The rumor is that a warehouse in the Bronx houses….”_

_David’s ears started ringing, and he couldn’t focus on the conversation anymore. He had to get out of there._

That conversation had led to him poking into the finances of the gallery, and whatever was in the Bronx. While he was initially in denial, a heated conversation with his assistant exploded when he admitted that Johnny Rose had ensured the success of every exhibit David had organized to date, no matter what he had to buy. And worse, he’d been in the loop the entire _fucking_ time. So had many _many_ people David had once considered friends. The address to a warehouse in the Bronx that housed a fair number of his sold pieces followed.

David’s world had turned upside down. He spent a full day at his Soho studio, lamenting, with reliable old vodka and tequila for company. He woke up that Thursday, hungover, and with an epiphany, one that he realized he was uncomfortable with. He truly was nothing, professionally or otherwise, without the Johnny Rose influence behind him. Even his career, one he pursued _after_ a Masters in Fine Art, was a sham. At almost 26, he’d accomplished nothing, and in life as it was, he likely never would.

Something had to change.

David had three weeks before his family convened in their mansion, ostensibly to mark the occasion of his birthday, as they annually did for every birthday in the family. A quick lunch or dinner together before they all scattered to different ends of the world. A reliable tradition unique to the Rose family. He needed a plan of action before then.

This had thus brought him, at _11 am_ no less, to the building that housed Williams Butler LLP, the illustrious law firm that handled the Rose Estate, and by extension, their personal assets. While David wasn’t exactly stupid, and very much knew how to use Google, he wasn’t exactly an expert at these matters. He could only hope he sounded like he knew what he was doing, and that he was doing the right thing.

He nervously fiddled with his silver rings before he adjusted his tie (he could dress for the occasion if needed), and walked up to the receptionist behind the pristine white desk. “Hi, I’m here to see Roger Williams? David Rose.”

The receptionist, who looked sharp yet approachable in her (tailored, he noted) suit, snapped to attention at that, as if she’d been waiting for him all morning. She stepped out from behind the desk and motioned him to follow. “Right this way Mr. Rose.”

He followed her through a maze of glass walls as she led him to one of the bigger offices in the floor.She knocked on a door, opened it slightly and announced “Mr. Rose for you, Mr. Williams.”

David was ushered in, seated in an expensively bland leather sofa, and offered a drink in quick succession.

“I must say, Mr. Rose, I was quite surprised to see you scheduled in today. We generally meet with your father or Eli.”

“David, please. And if I may be candid with you?”

“David. Of course. Call me Roger. And please do, we’re here to help.”

“I’m not here for the Rose Estate per se. I’m here simply as David Rose,” he confessed. “And I’d like to confirm that...what we discuss is protected by attorney-client privilege, even from Rose Estate dealings.” He gestured with his hands as he spoke.

“That is…certainly an unexpected request but of course, we manage your personal assets, and anything to do with that will be protected by privilege. But anything that involves the Rose Estate or another Rose member in any capacity, I cannot keep from either Eli or your father.”

“Alright.” David fidgeted a little as he contemplated his words, rehearsed as they were. “I would like a brief list of any assets in my name. In any capacity.”

“Ah,” Roger intoned as he considered David. “I’d wondered why the memo included a list of assets. Of course, let’s have a look shall we?” He shuffled some papers in front of him.

“Well, you have your Trust Fund, obviously. Some equity in Rose Video, Rose Real Estate, and businesses which have significant Rose investment. There’s a property in Malibu you co-own with your sister, Alexis. Two luxury cars - A Bentley and a Lamborghini. And of course, there’s Schitt’s Creek.”

“I’m sorry, Schitt’s Creek?” David sputtered before he fully processed the words. “Wait, did you say Trust Fund? I have a trust fund?”

“Well, your grandmother, Mr. Rose’s mother, owned a relatively significant portfolio at the time of her death. I believe your grandfather and father both contributed to it. Her instructions were to separate that into two equivalent trust funds, for you and your sister, to be handed over at your twenty-fifth birthday.”

“How did I not know that Nana Rose left me money?” David was shocked.

“Well,” Roger considered before he responded, “Eli does handle all your financials. You were underage when it was created. It’s essentially a combination of an investment portfolio, some fixed deposits and a small percentage of liquid cash. It’s been mostly untouched and valued at about $15 million, give or take?”

“And just to confirm, all of that is entirely mine, and mine alone?” David was still processing this unexpected windfall. He’d expected maybe the gallery in his name, or his Soho studio, which reminded him…

“Well yes. It is minuscule compared to the Rose Estate, but definitely a chunk that is one hundred percent yours.”

“The apartment in Soho and the gallery on 5th Avenue aren’t in my name are they?” David knew the answer before he asked the question, but he wanted confirmation nonetheless.

“No, I believe both fall under the Rose Estate. The gallery may actually be under Johnny’s personal assets actually. I might have to double-check…”

David took a deep breath and pushed on. “Schitt’s Creek you said?”

“Ah! Yes. The quirkiest of all Rose assets. Your father purchased Schitt’s Creek in your name in ’91. A birthday present I believe. It’s a little rural town in the middle of nowhere, but completely in your name. 4500 acres. Population 1507. About sixty minutes away from a slightly bigger town, Elmdale. Tax-free. Just dead land really.”

“What’s the possibility of selling that place, you think?”

“Well, it was on the market twenty years before your father purchased it. So improbable?” Roger guessed. “Of course, we’d need to look into it a little further to tell you with an absolute guarantee.”

“Of course,” David waved it off nonchalantly. In truth, he was fascinated that he owned a town, _almost_ fascinated enough to consider visiting the rural backwater town.

“So, what’s the real reason behind your visit David? Surely it’s not just for a list of assets?” Roger probed, not unsubtly.

David looked at him with an uncharacteristically grim determination. “I intend to distance myself and establish some independence from the Rose Estate.” Another rehearsed statement.

Roger looked surprised before he neutralized his emotions and leaned forward in interest. “Any reason behind that choice?”

“I have reservations with how things have been progressing in…certain aspects of my life,” David started slowly, “and I believe that some distance will help. And control.”

“So, what would you like us to do?”

“Off the bat, I’d like to rescind any authority I’ve given a third-party over my personal assets. Eli definitely…” He looked at Roger, expression asking if it was possible.

“That can be done,” Roger reassured him.

“I’d like to get rid of any ownership in Rose Estate-related businesses. You can give Rose Estate first right of refusal but I want it gone. I want it all gone.”

Roger considered the request. “Your personal stake is insignificant enough that you might not require board approval. Of course, from a financial standpoint, I’d advise you to hold on to it.”

David was mostly quiet as he listened. “I’m no expert here,” he readily admitted. “But I’m not looking to make a quick buck or profit, Roger. I just don’t want any reason for the Rose Estate to control me. I don’t want to be…tangled with them.” David tried to find the right words to express his emotion.

“That’s why we’re here David. To help you out.” Roger tried reassuring him. “So, a sale of Rose-estate related equity. What else would you like to do? The cars? The Malibu estate? Schitt’s Creek?”

David looked conflicted before he decided on the Malibu estate and the cars. He quite liked that seaside mansion. “Umm, move the cars to the Malibu compound, leave that property untouched for now.”

“Let me just quickly get one of our financial advisors in here,” Roger said, as he motioned at his secretary and continued, “Would you like to set up automatic deposits for property taxes?”

David nodded gratefully, things a little over his heard at this point. Once the aforementioned advisor joined them, he helped David go through all the intricacies, both bureaucratic and otherwise, helping him set up accounts and manage expectations.

*****

Three weeks moved rather quickly for David. Eli had readily snapped up all his Rose-related equity, sold anonymously. He bitterly shut down all operations in _his_ gallery. He slowly but surely started moving out of his Soho studio. He sorted through his material possessions, moved a significant portion of them to storage at a reasonably priced but exclusive place that catered to temperature control, in Toronto. He’d even cleared his social calendar, profusely apologizing to the Knowles-Carter family for the last-minute changes. He'd bought a less ostentatious car, a gunmetal grey Porsche SUV. ‘To blend in with the locals,’ he’d told himself.

David was not sure about his plans moving forward. He definitely knew what he didn’t want - a life run by his father. Even Alexis had more freedom. Of course, she had no career so that was a different story. A road trip to Schitt’s Creek was his next course of action, he’d eventually decided. It wasn’t every day you found out you owned a literal town. There was no way he wasn’t going to see it in person. Of course, the road trip was meant to be his very own eat, pray, love - his journey into self-discovery.

He sent his luggage ahead to the _only_ motel in Schitt’s Creek, with a note explaining his intentions (to both arrive in person and pay for the lodging of his luggage). He needed time to reflect and to figure out what he wanted to do. But he also needed to be comfortable wherever he was. While he had a comfortable nest egg to explore his ideas, he wanted to be careful. After all, he’d decided to do this with his personal money, which was less than 5% of the esteemed Rose family fortune.

David had decided to start his journey from New York, drive up to Toronto for his annual birthday dinner, and continue on.

The four annual Rose birthday dinners were somewhat uncharacteristic when the Rose family lifestyle was taken into consideration. Nonetheless, regardless of whether it was hours or days spent in the mansion, the eve of every birthday concluded with a family dinner that all four of them attended, with guests or otherwise. Whether they actually verbally acknowledged the occasion was another matter entirely. An unwritten tradition, they were the only occasions when no excuse was needed, or given for a missing Rose.

As David pulled up the driveway and got out, he was immediately greeted by his sister’s commentary. “Ew David! Is that a Porsche?” Alexis said with a wrinkled nose.

“Yes, what about it?” David questioned her testily.

“Nothing, it’s just a…Porsche,” Alexis said as though that explained everything.

They immediately fell back into a familiar, bickering routine unique to them, as they wandered in, David’s overnight bag in one hand. He’d arrived with a couple of hours to spare for the dinner itself, and intended to leave as soon as he woke up the next day. ‘A reasonable noon, after brunch,’ he’d promised himself.

Dinner was, as usual, an extravagant production that catered to David’s favorite cuisine of the season, Greek this year. It progressed as it usually it, with mundane, non-provocative topics (‘Milan fashion week was simply a disaster this year!’) or gossip (‘Did you hear about Leo at Brangelina’s White Party?” dominating the conversation until dessert came about.

As David nursed his authentic greek coffee, and a piece of _p_ _ortokalopita_ , Johnny Rose brought it up as casually as he could. “So, David,” he started, interrupting David’s focus on his food.

“Yes,” David looked distracted as he acknowledged his father.

“Eli told me you revoked his access to manage your personal accounts?”

“David!” Moira exclaimed, “Why on earth would you do that?”

“I just…thought it was time to take on some real responsibility for my life,” David said, as casually as he could manage, fidgeting with the rings on his fingers.

“I also hear you shut down your gallery?” Johnny probed further.

“David!” Moira sounded surprised.

“It’s not really my gallery is it?” He muttered under his breath.

“What was that?” Johnny asked.

“It was never really my gallery to begin with, was it?” David looked at his father, a challenge in his eyes.

“What are you talking about? Of course, it’s yours! You run it, very successfully I might add,” Moira began. “Why, just last month the Times ran an article about your successful fall preview -“

“I know.” David was internally fuming at this point. “ _Everything_ ,” he stressed.

“David, what on earth are you talking about?” Johnny asked.

“I know about _your_ gallery, I know about the Times, the paid-off assistant, the warehouse in the Bronx. _I know everything_.”

“David…” Johnny started.

“Like, what is happening here right now?” Alexis was summarily ignored.

“Why? Just…why?” David’s voice broke a little as he asked.

“Oh, John!” Moira breathed.

“Son, you have to understand, I just wanted what was best for you.”

“And what was best for me was buying my associates, friends, career, and reputation?”

“No! It’s just, you don’t understand the realities of this world David. You have a bachelors in Arts for Pete's sake! Without a safety net, that business would have drowned you!”

David was outraged. His mouth twisted. “I have a _Masters_ in fine arts, thank you. Was that a safety net or just an elaborate theater production around me? Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to handle it?

Johnny responded in kind, growing heated. “Handle it? Of course, you can’t handle it! Why do you think we found Eli?”

“What your father is trying to say dear is that-“ Moira tried to mediate before Johnny interrupted her. “That neither of my children has a head for or interest in business, so we needed to invest in a third-party who did.”

“Maybe what we needed was the opportunity to prove ourselves!” David retorted as Alexis went, “Hey!” in indignation.

“And when would I give you that? When you’re gallivanting across the world in different yachts?” Johnny pointed at Alexis. “Or when you’re running around New York, gracing society pages with your indiscretions while running a gallery that makes no sense or _money_?”

“What are you trying to say?” David challenged once again.

“I’m trying to say that it’s great that you’re trying to take on responsibility _but_ you’re living in a fantasy if you think you can successfully manage that much money on your own. You don’t have the experience to do it. ”

“So what? You think that I’ll lose all that money and just be ruined overnight?”

“Not overnight of course. But it isn’t a lot of money son. You live an extravagant lifestyle. You’ll come back to the Rose family fortune soon enough.” Johnny justified.

“Is that what you really think?” David looked at his parents. He was hurt at how little his parents seemed to believe in him.

“David,” Moira tried to appeal to him. “Is this really necessary? You’ve always been safe and allowed to pursue your interests. Your passion. Why not just be grateful and let Eli handle it? Just let things be as they were. You were happy, weren’t you?”

“My interests? _My life_ has apparently been the Truman Show in real-time!” David was outraged. “How am I supposed to be alright with that?”

“Ugh, David! Do you have to be this dramatic?” Alexis scoffed, most of her attention back on her phone.

“I’m not being dramatic!” David’s voice rose as he spoke. “I’ve just been basically told that I’ve been in a controlled environment my entire life. I’m appropriately outraged, thank you very much.”

“David,” Johnny started in a conciliatory voice. “All we’re saying is that this isn’t your area of expertise. So let the experienced guys handle it, and just…keep doing what you’ve been doing.”

“If this has been happening the entire time, where were you when I was trying to get the naturalist from Sweden to come in for a performance? I spent 3 weeks in the woods chasing after her. _In the woods_! Where were you then or was this like a pick and choose situation?”

“Well…” Johnny looked guilty.

“No.” David interrupted. He abruptly stood up. “ I can’t do this right now. I think I’ll be leaving a little earlier than planned after all.”

“What? Where are you off to? New York?” Johnny questioned.

“No actually, I’m planning on taking a little road trip. Clear my head.”

“A road trip,” Moira echoed delicately. “What aquaint idea. Where to?”

“Ooh, David! You’re going to eat, pray, love? Meet some _gurus_ and find _inner peace_?”

“David! Going off-grid like this is exactly the kind of irresponsibility I’m talking about. At least give Eli access again before you leave, so that there are no screw-ups with your accounts.” Johnny tried to reason with him.

“My _accounts_ will be fine. _I_ will be fine. I was going to bring up the road trip. I was actually hoping for some encouragement. Clearly, that’s not what’s happening here.”

“David-“ his parents started.

“I will see you once I’m done squandering the money that’s mine.” He snorted. “Clearly you believe that’ll happen in the next few months, so I’ll be back before Coachella.”

“David!” Moira was shocked by his words.

“So this is what you want?” Johnny considered him. “Managing your own life?”

“Yes.” David was sure.

“Well then, I wish you luck. And you can expect to be cut off from the Rose Estate until you come to your senses. Credit cards included. Ball’s in your court.” Johnny informed him, at the end of his own rope.

“I don’t know cricket,” David snapped. “But alright, challenge accepted. I won’t come back to you unless I’m broke, and you won’t come to me unless-“

“We won’t come to you _at all_ ,” Johnny was self-assured.

“This is just a horrendously terrible idea,” Moira whispered loudly.

“Well then, if you’ll excuse me. I need to go collect my things and leave since I’m c _ut off_ from the Rose Estate,” He stressed, in a viciously sweet tone as he left. The ‘happy fucking birthday to me’ that followed was decidedly more bitter.

*****

David cared for his family. That much was obvious. He definitely cared for his mother, and his sister. Always would. But this was something he had to do for himself. To find out that his life was a sham had broken him and shot his self-esteem and confidence to hell. If he needed to distance his family to find himself, he’d do that. It’s not like they’d stay away forever. Calls, and or messages, he was certain, would keep him in touch.

He double-checked his belongings and prepared to leave. As he exited the driveway, he impulsively decided on the scenic route to his destination. ‘Schitt’s Creek, here I come.’


End file.
